


Man on the moon

by anna_sun



Category: Shameless - Fandom
Genre: AU, Drug Use, Fighting, M/M, Masturbation, Running Away, Theres some canon things in there, fight, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4086646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_sun/pseuds/anna_sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian runs away from home and meets Mickey Milkovich, attractive tough guy who, for some reason, decides to help him. </p><p>(Man on the moon : A person who is not an outcast but different from everyone else. A unique person, different in a good way)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WORK IS ON HIATUS.

Ian tapped his cigarette and let the ashes cover the dirt of the pathway he was standing on. Everything around him was a mix of red, yellow and orange, and some leaves were crushed under his feet when others were still whistling in the wind, desperately hanging on their trees. Autumn was beautiful, but the bad, strong feeling in his gut reminded him that he didn't belong. It was sad, really. 

He had one hand in the loose pocket of Lip's old jeans, fondling with his cellphone, wondering if he should call someone. Tell Fiona it wasn't her fault, that she truly did the best she could, or maybe explain to Lip why he couldn't stay. He even could at least try to join Debbie, say a goodbye she wouldn't really understand, only so she could tell the rest of the family that he was alive because she had a strange conversation with him on the phone the other day. 

Ian felt like they deserved at least something from him, anything. Their family always needed to stay close, the Gallaghers against the world, and it felt like betrayal when he dropped his cigarette butt on the ground and started walking away. It felt too much like a part of him was nailed on the ground behind him and he just kept walking and pushing until it broke free so he could stay away.

Half an hour later, his backpack felt heavy on his shoulders even if it didn't hold much. It's only then that he started wondering if he had packed enough. He found himself second guessing everything, and Ian was lost because he had thought about it enough, he shouldn't be nervous. He shouldn't be nervous at all. This was the only solution, if he wanted everyone, including himself, to be safe. 

Or maybe it was the stupidest thing he would ever do in his life, but Ian still kept walking, desperately hanging on his decision, just like the autumn leaves around him.

* * *

The first few days were rough. Of course Ian wasn't used to hot water and good food everyday, especially since he was a Gallagher living in a... a Gallagher who used to live in a house full of other Gallaghers. They weren't the most luxurious people, and so Ian wasn't crying over the loss of a great shelter, since he never really had one. The first few days were rough because he found himself completely alone for the very first time in his life, lonely and free to make all his decisions while thinking only about himself. It was weird, something he would need to get used to. So Ian was alone and free and crying over the loss of his family most of the time. He hated the tears when they came late in the night, but every single time he would let himself go and cry anyways. It wasn't like there was anyone who cared in the moment, the only person there to sometimes judge him being another homeless man or woman. 

So the first few day were hard, but as luck would have it, Ian met Mickey on the fifth day.

So far he'd slept twice on a bench park and mostly eaten at McDonalds, running through Chicago during the day. He'd taken the bus to get out of the South side, but now he didn't have the money to buy bus tickets, especially when he could walk. So he walked a lot, reminding himself food was more important than resting his sore legs. He figured he would find himself a job somewhere sometime, but every single time he saw something that could make him enough money to get by, he would convince himself he was still not far enough away from home. His little mission to find himself a good place to be was getting his mind off his family, home, and what he'd done, so Ian figured he was happy enough. 

He was contemplating turning left or right, standing still on the corner of the road. He had no idea where he was, no idea where each path would take him, and that was what made the decision difficult. Since he ran away, each step he made was a decision in itself, and Ian was almost happy to stand still for a while. He still needed to go either left or right, but he was waiting until he couldn't wait anymore and the decision would make itself on its own.

''Why are you standing there all stupid? You lost or something?'' A voice behind him said rather loudly. 

Ian turned his head in one fast motion, surprised by the tone the stranger used to talk to him, because who the hell talks to strangers that way? 

''Um, no, I don't think so.'' Was his only answer as he took a good look at the guy: he had dark brownish hair, blue eyes, was wearing an ugly wool grey sweater and black almost skinny jeans. He looked old in his features, like he had lived a lot, but he couldn't be more than 19, Ian was sure of it. He was attractive, even in the weird grandma style sweater. Ian hadn't seen a lot in his life so far, but he'd seen enough ugly faces and this rude stranger wasn't one of them. 

Realizing he found the guy oddly beautiful made him think about his own appearance. 

He self consciously passed a hand in his dirty red hair, he hadn't done much cleaning since he left after all, except for occasionally splashing his face with cold water in public restrooms. 

"So you're here to buy?" 

Ian didn't answer right away, so the guy kept on talking. 

"Look, Iggie told me today was supposed to be only usuals, and I don't recall ever seeing you here, but you look like you might need something."

Ian laughed a little, because even if he probably should be at least a little offended by the remark, he wasn't. He knew he **did** look like he needed something, and the fact that he stumbled across a drug dealer on a random street corner reminded him a lot of home. He wasn't in the south side anymore, just maybe barely on the edge of it, but Ian knew you could find south side everywhere. So Ian laughed for what seemed like the first time in weeks. 

''I'm sorry, even if I wanted to I don't have the money to buy anything right now. But thanks, I guess.'' Ian politely said, because he wasn't one to treat the guy like less of a person because he was dealing drugs. Of course he didn't know the guy, and maybe he was doing it all for very wrong reasons, but Ian understood there were desperate times for desperate actions. Plus, he strangely had this feeling in his gut that told him he could trust him.

''Oh, Okay.''

Silence overtook them, and Ian was left with his original dilemma : left or right? So he stood there still, looking around him, feeling the presence of the guy behind him. Left or right?

The dealer cleared his throat, so Ian completely turned around, deciding another's opinion wouldn't hurt.

''Should I go left or right?'' He asked before wetting his lips.

A weird look passed across the stranger's face, but he recovered quickly.

''Well, where d'ya wanna go?''

Ian didn't have an answer for that.

''I don't know.''

''You... don't know. But you saying you're not lost?''

Yeah, Ian realized he might look a little bit like a complete weirdo. 

''Sorry, this must be confusing, huh,'' Ian tried to think of a way to explain his situation without telling his life story or taking too much time. ''Look, basically I don't really have any destination so I'm not lost. I'm only looking for some place somewhere, you know? And I'm having a hard time deciding if I should go left or right, cause I don't know where each way's gonna take me.''

The guy nodded, and for a bit he seemed like he was deep in his thoughts. Ian gave him the time to figure out an answer to his fucked up explication, nonchalantly looking at his surroundings.

''You should go left, then.''

''Why?'' he couldn't help but ask.

''Going right's only gonna get you to a lot of fucking miles of fields, and you don't want that. Going left's gonna take you deeper in the city, you got better chances to find 'some place somewhere' there.''

Ian smiled at the guy, not planning on saying anything else as he started walking left.

''Wait!'' He added, ''What's your name?''

''Um, Ian.''

''Look, Ian? I'm Mickey. I don't really understand what you're looking for, but you can't be older than me, and I don't feel right letting you go all alone and shit.'' Mickey looked like he was about to shit himself when he realized what he was saying. ''So like, I can give you my number, yeah? Call me if you're ever in deep shit, need water or even a good high. I don't have much and I certainly ain't the type to help the homeless but whatever.'' 

For what seemed like an eternity Ian was speechless, because what the fuck? That other teenager, Mickey, dealing drugs on a street corner was just offering to help him out. Like Ian was a long lost friend from kinder garden or something.

Then Ian shook his head a bit, as if that motion alone would place his thoughts in order, and he found words to thank Mickey. 

''Oh, yeah, that would be great, thanks.'' 

Ian got his phone out - an old Iphone 3, whatever - and handed it to Mickey, not even second guessing his decision to give his most expensive belonging to a stranger who could definitely start running away with it. 

Mickey was fast to add himself in the contacts as ''Mick'', even texted himself random letters so he could have Ian's number. Ian tried not to think too much about it, but he couldn't really help it. Mickey was really fucking attractive, and apparently really fucking nice too. 

''No problem'' He said as he gave Ian his phone back. 

He started walking again, and Ian's fifth day was his best day so far. 

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized ''Man on the Moon'' is a movie with Jim Carrey in it but I love the title to much to change it so... sorry Jim Carrey.  
> MOTM is also a really cool acronym if this gets popular and shit. A girl can dream.  
> The real definition is : A person who is not an outcast but different from everyone else. A unique person, different in a good way. 
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING, FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE WRITING THIS WEIRD THING.


	2. Chapter 2

The clouds were beautiful, grey and blue and every reason why Ian couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. He needed to get some sleep, he really did, especially since the ground was soft and the grass wasn't too cold or wet. It was the perfect moment to get an average night of sleep, one where he wouldn't wake up sore and still tired from the day before. But the evening looked truly magical, and it was in moments like these that Ian almost didn't regret his decision to leave. He wouldn't be living this if he had stayed at home, he would be living much worse. Scared and miserable, afraid for his family and of himself and of _him._  

But he couldn't think about all of that right now. He couldn't let his thoughts stay in what was supposed to be the past.

Sleep came to him slow but easy, like a wave crashing over him and soothing him. The last thing he did before falling into unconsciousness was pressing his eyes against his right forearm, sighing of relief when he didn't cry.   

Ian had no idea how much time he'd spent asleep, but he was slowly awoken from a nightmare that felt like it lasted forever when he heard laughing. He felt the presence of people around him, there was definitely more than one person standing over him, and heard some more giggling. What the hell was happening?

''He has two bags - yeah, take this bag. M'gonna take the other one.'' The voice was muffled, low, and Ian heard it but he couldn't grasp the meaning of it. He was still pretty much in his sleeping state after all, and all his brain did was make him groan at the big distraction from sleep.

''Shit!'' That was a girl. ''Y'all need to shut the fuck up!'' 

''What? You afraid of some homeless teenager?'' 

Ian, who had been laying down sleeping, sat up on the ground. _He_ was the homeless teenager, and oh, those people didn't sound good at all. 

''What the fuck?!'' He yelled, standing up pretty quickly for a man who'd been practically unconscious. 

He found himself staring at 4 other teenagers. They looked a little bit older than him, sure, but they were teenagers still, Ian could tell by their trashy clothes and dirty backpacks. He didn't know why he was waiting for an answer to his statement, because all he got was a punch in the stomach before he saw them all start running like there was no tomorrow.

All Ian could do in the moment was crouch in two, his hands pressing against his stomach to try to contain the pain.

He got himself back together when he realized his bags weren't beside his feet anymore, and okay, that guy could punch, but Ian could _run_.   

So he ran after them. Didn't even take a second to think about it, because one second was too long, and those bags held everything he fucking owned. All the money from his pay he'd managed to keep from the Kash and Grab over the years, his clothes, ROTC dog tags, his phone... He couldn't let them have it, because without all of that he would be in even deeper shit than he already was. 

The bunch of assholes had a great advance on him, he had to admit it. But they were probably intoxicated, and stupid, and so Ian was quick to find himself somewhat close behind them. He could hear their laughter like they were screaming beside his ears, and all he could see were blurry houses and trees passing, with the thieves in focus. It was all he could concentrate on, and even if Lip always made fun of him for waking up early and going on jogs on school mornings, Ian was suddenly very glad he always did it anyways. If Lip would have been in his situation right now, his lazy ass would be crying and kicking garbage cans in the park. Not running after what was his (even if Lip would probably have been more likely to be one of the thieves).

One of them stopped running, their hands supporting their bodies on their knees. Ian almost stopped too, but he was quick to see that that one didn't hold any bag. So Ian let it go, glad he would be against three instead of four if it ever came down to a fight.

The one running in lead wasn't as stupid as Ian thought her to be : she made her way into more discreet streets, back streets, still running as fast as she was before (and holding Ian's heaviest bag). He would have been impressed if he wasn't so preoccupied with keeping his breath steady.

He followed them, very close behind. So close he could almost touch one guy's long hair ; and that's what he did. He managed to grab him and push him on the floor, the hard fall making him scream.

He rapidly grabbed his backpack who had been dropped on the floor and continued running.

Or at least that's what he thought he was doing, because he came face to face with one of the teenagers before he could even make two more steps forward.  

He got a punch right in the jaw for his trouble, making his vision blurry for half a second. 

''I don't know why we bothered running. It's all of us against this looser.'' 

The kicks came in before Ian could even think about stopping them, he wouldn't even have been surprised if he had heard his bones shatter. 

He desperately hit anything he could back, even put some of his training to good use, but he was still outnumbered by two and his efforts didn't mean anything since he ended up on the floor, holding on his bag for dear life. 

They got bored fast, Ian couldn't find the strength to fight back and those type of people didn't like it when it was too easy, so they stopped, breath heavy on their lips.

''Before we go,'' said one of them. ''I need to relieve myself.'' 

Their laughter sounded like nails scratching on a chalkboard to Ian. He was hurting all over, couldn't even move to get away, so he cringed when he heard the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled down. 

He peed on him, and they left. 

Ian passed out. 

* * *

 

The sun was shining bright when Ian slowly opened his eyes, blinding him even in the shadows of the alleyway. For a second he couldn't recall what he was doing there, but then he smelled the scent of urine and garbage and he remembered. He slowly stood up, feeling almost every muscle and bone complain. If Ian was going to go anywhere today, he would have to take the bus, because there was no way he could walk, and even then he didn't feel too excited about taking the bus looking like trash and smelling like piss. His t shirt was still humid against his skin, sticking to it a little bit, and Ian got the sudden urge to throw up (also maybe because his insides where still shaken from last night's fight a little bit).

But he still had at least one of his bags, so he counted it as a victory. Like maybe he got second place, and that was a lot better than nothing.

His cellphone (who was about to die), water bottles and some of his notebooks was a lot better than nothing.

He pressed his back against the wall to support himself when it dawned on him that all of his money was hidden in one of his socks. Said sock was hidden in the corner of his duffle bag, duffle bag gone with the pieces of shit other teenagers. If he was still back home, he would have called Lip, and his older brother would have probably been so mad he would have killed them all by hand. Or, you know, thought of some genius trap/prank/something so he wouldn't have to fight with his fists but with his brain. Lip being pretty much smarter than everybody else in their neighborhood helped their family through a lot of shit, and Ian would have given anything to have him and his brain by his side right now.

But Ian had nothing to give. He also had nothing to loose, so he removed his t shirt (making sure that the pee stain didn't even brush his skin once more), and threw it on the floor. He knew he was mostly covered in bruises, some old, some from last night, but it was better than keeping the shirt on. He used to be almost ashamed of his body, not to the point where he would complain about it every day at school like some of the other girls in his classes, but he still never quite felt happy with it. It was even weirder to think someone else would find him attractive. He remembered feeling like a skinny 8 year old every time he saw himself in the mirror not even 3 weeks ago, but with everything that had happened... Ian couldn't care less about his appearance. The judgmental looks of strangers was the last thing on his mind when he stepped into a ray of sunshine.

He walked for a while, a lot slowly than usually, but Ian was still proud of himself for every step he made. Some people's face turned to one of worry when they passed him on the street, and every time someone would touch his bare arm and ask him if he was okay, Ian would cringe from the sudden pain but say yes, nod and smile anyways. Nodding and smiling was the only way he could keep himself from falling apart these days.

He took a break about 15 minutes later, his ribs hurting too much. He needed to get back to the park he had found yesterday, before the thieves found him. His whole day would be gone to waste, since he would find himself at the same place he was a day before. And yet, if Ian wanted to be smart about this, he needed to go even further, because what if they came back for what he had kept? He wasn't scared of them, he had no real reason to be, but he definitely couldn't fight or even run. His status had changed from ''Homeless, gay, run away'' to ''Homeless, gay, broke and broken run away''.

He let himself fall on the edge of the sidewalk and cringed when he found out the fuckers had kicked him low enough on the back that his butt hurt when he sat down. He had gone through fights rougher than this, even against Lip, but when he had, he was back at home and could stay in his bed, take Advils and get drunk enough to not feel the pain anymore. But he had no family, no Advils, no booze. This felt a lot worse.

He was fondling with his phone in his hands, not doing anything, when found himself thinking about the guy from the other day, Mickey. With his dark hair, blue eyes, grandma sweater and ''if you ever need anything'' speech. He thought about using the last minutes of life his phone had to call the man : ask him if it would bother him to let Ian use his garden hose (if he had one) to clean himself up a little bit. Mickey did say ''If you're ever in deep shit'', and Ian didn't feel like he was in _deep_ shit. Just like he was on the edge of it, and yeah when the man said that he probably meant ''If you ever need back up to beat the shit out of someone''. But Ian didn't have that big of an ego, and he wasn't scared to ask for help like some of the douche bags in the south side usually were.

He did feel kind of nervous and ashamed when he made his decision and opened his phone, but that alone didn't stop him from going into his contacts and pressing ''Call'' (he ignored the thousand missed calls and messages).

It rang long enough for Ian to start giving up, because he wasn't about to leave some voice mail along the lines of 'Hey, I need help but you don't really know me and you really have no reason to help me but I'm trying anyways'. And then, the bell stopped mid ringing and someone on the other end of the line said, 

''Hi?'' He sounded confused, and Ian then wondered if Mickey had bothered to add him to his contacts and could see it was him and not some random number. Because if the latter was correct, Ian would have some trouble explaining to him who he was without sounding like an idiot, especially if Mickey didn't remember. 

''Mickey?'' Ian asked, because oh, this could totally be a fake number. 

Silence. 

''The fuck are you?'' The man's voice was on the edge of cracking, and Ian found he almost sounded scared. Still, he was mostly in control of himself, Ian could hear some shifting on the other end and could almost see in his mind the man's body being really tense (which made no sense since Ian had seen him once and now his whole person was perfectly represented in his brain but whatever). Mickey sounded like all of the calls from random numbers he received with people who knew his name were bad. Ian tried to explain himself.

''I'm Ian. Gallagher.'' It's only then that he realized his last name meant nothing to him, even if it meant a little bit of something back home because of Frank. Maybe that's why he was so used to saying it like it explained everything. ''I mean, you know, we met at the corner of a street? I don't remember which one but you gave me your phone number and, yeah.'' 

Mickey coughed, seemed to get up from whatever place he was in and walk away. Ian even heard the distinct sound of a door closing. 

''Redhead?'' Mickey only asked, almost in a whisper, and Ian smiled because yeah, he should have started with that. 

''Yeah, I've got red hair.'' He agreed, making sure his smile could be heard. He cleared his throat before adding ''But my phone's on the edge of dying so I'm sorry if I'm being too direct for this. I could really use some help? I'm not asking for a lot. Just like, if you have a hose or something so I can rinse myself a bit and start off new-'' 

Mickey stopped him mid sentence. 

''Look, I never thought you would really call when I had the shit idea to give you my number. My home ain't a fucking charity open house. Maybe if I was... alone? Just, this isn't a good time right now.'' 

Oh, Ian thought. 

So ''Oh,'' he only said. 

Maybe Mickey expected him to hang up first, but Ian didn't, maybe because his throat was tied in a knot and he couldn't really move right the moment. He still found some words. 

''Okay, you're right, I'm sorry. I'll find something else, sorry to have bothered you. I'm not usually like this, you know.'' 

Mickey sighed. 

''No, I don't know, cause I don't fucking know you.'' 

Ian didn't say anything, only looked up straight ahead and nodded his head to himself. He wasn't going to get any help from Mickey, then. 

The silence seemed to make something click in Mickey's mind. 

''Okay, look. It's just that my sister's being a shit head and I can't really... okay. I'll text you an address. I'll meet you there some time tonight. With like a bucket of water or whatever the fuck you need to clean yourself with. It's not like it's hard to find public showers but whatever.'' 

Public showers were really hard to find in the middle of Autumn, since every fucking pool was closed, but Ian took what he could get. 

''Yes! It's perfect, okay, thank you so much. Thank you.'' 

Ian only heard a groan before he was hung up on. 

He laughed a bit at Mickey's attitude, because he almost acted like he was helping Ian against his will. He then rapidly locked his screen to try and save as much battery as he could before he received Mickey's text message, which arrived about 2 minutes later. 

He checked on google maps where the address was, and it was his turn to groan when he realized he had at least another 45 minutes to walk to get there - and that assuming he didn't get lost. He took a notebook out and scribbled the directions on a piece of paper, knowing his phone wouldn't last long enough to guide him through it. 

And he painfully started walking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on making my chapters longer but it's gonna take some time - sorry. This is my first chapter fic. (Also this is UNBETAD so sorry if there's any mistakes, feel free to complain about it in the comments.) 
> 
> AS ALWAYS, FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED, I NEED THE MOTIVATION. I love all 5 of yous who are bothering to read this shit.


	3. Chapter 3

He found an old house, deserted from almost everything other than a bunch of other abandoned buildings. He practically missed it because the address on the front door was barely readable. Ian almost felt like he was still back home, back in the south side and he could turn a corner and walk pass Kev and see his father laying on the ground not too far away from the Alibi. It was weird, to see all these reminders when he was days of walk and bus drives away from home.

He saw Mickey as soon as he opened the door, who made a shit ton of noise when it closed itself due to its heavy weight. The other man was sitting on the stairs, and Ian was pretty sure he could see the light reflect in some shattered glass on the floor. As much as he wanted to, he figured sitting on the stairs beside Mickey wasn't that much of a good idea. He stayed up, making eyes contact and smiling.

''Took you long enough'' Mickey said in a harsh tone, even if it held no bite.

''Sorry if you waited, I was kind of far away, needed to walk.'' Ian nervously passed a hand in his hair. He didn't know how to start up the conversation. Mickey already looked like he wanted to get as far away as possible from Ian, and that wasn't really a good sign.

''And you look even shittier than the last time I saw you.'' Mickey added as he got up, brushing his hands against the rough material of his jeans. ''I'd ask what happened but then you might think I care.'' 

Ian bitterly laughed, strangely enjoying Mickey's rude attitude. He was glad he had put his t shirt back on, mostly because it was way too cold outside to walk around shirtless, but also because even if he still wanted to throw up a the idea of what was still on it, having Mickey see him naked when it wasn't necessary wasn't Ian's idea of a good time. 

Mickey continued talking as he walked up the stairs, and Ian followed him. 

''So the bath here looks disgusting as fuck so I brought buckets, you can fill them with water yourself. There's still water here, don't ask me why, maybe there's still some dumb fuck paying the bills somewhere, we don't care. I stole some other shit, like soap, cause obviously there's no way I'm paying anything on your ass.''

''Obviously'' Ian interrupted, looking around the small bathroom. It was dirty, and smelled like dry rot, but the buckets carelessly dropped on the floor next to the door were clean enough, and as he looked, Ian found a bar of soap and a towel. It was better than what Ian would have ever found for himself.

Mickey gave him was Ian guessed was his ''bad look'', and Ian laughed once more, Mickey's face almost making him forget the pain the laughter brought to his rib cage.

But Mickey was still a stranger, for fuck's sake, and Ian needed to get hold of himself.  

''Yeah okay smart ass, you don't need to lock on your way out. It was nice to meet you blah blah blah.'' Mickey brushed a hand in the air to show what he was saying was useless blabbering, and he turned around to get out of the small space and probably the house, too.

Ian wanted to kick himself when he realized he was disappointed by Mickey leaving so soon.

He tried to ignore that voice in his head and concentrate on moving his arm muscles up so he could remove his t shirt, but that wasn't quite working out. He groaned, pretty loudly he must admit, because of the sharp pain the movement sent to his left ribs. Mickey could have been a neighborhood away and he would have heard Ian's groan, so it wasn't a surprise he turned around in shock when he heard it from the corridor. 

For a small second he thought the guy was jerking off in there and oh, that would have been really fucked up, but Mickey caught a glimpse of Ian's back through the opening of the door who wasn't even remotely closed and almost gasped at the sight. Mickey had seen his share of cuts and bruises, but this one was pretty close to taking the cake.

''Shit man, that's some nasty bruise.'' His mouth said before he could stop himself.

Ian was stuck with his arms halfway up, didn't want to move in fear of more pain. It was like they were still kicking him in the guts, or trying to break apart his bones. Plus, Ian had spent the night passed out on a cold ground, and the weather wasn't at its best. He wouldn't be surprised if he developed some kind of cold, and oh, the more Ian thought about it, the more he started freaking out.

He took a deep breath and slowly turned around only by the movement of his feet.

''Yeah, um, I could use some help?'' Ian said, his eyes barely making it over the shirt so he could look at Mickey. 

Maybe the guy had given enough to a stranger and wouldn't even feel bad about walking away from him right this moment. After all, Mickey owed him nothing, and Ian could see in his eyes that his brain was a mess of reasons why he shouldn't help him out. 

Apparently, the good won over the bad, because Mickey sighed and got closer until Ian could feel the edge of his fingertips brushing against his skin. Mickey was attempting to remove the clothing without moving Ian too much, but even then, Ian found himself biting his lip so he wouldn't cry out of pain. He didn't want to cry out of pain when Mickey was standing so close and could probably already smell his awful breath.

When it was done and the t shirt found its way to the floor, Ian blushed. Mickey was intensively looking at his naked chest (yes it probably was because it was still covered in dry blood but Ian blushed anyways).

''You know, I usually wait for at least one date before I let a guy undress me like that'' Ian tried humor to get himself out of embarrassment.  

But at the end of the sentence, Mickey didn't laugh or even chuckle, he took a gigantic step back. 

''Don't say shit like that.'' He said. 

Ian's voice got stuck in his throat as he looked at Mickey. The guy's eyebrows were almost up to his hairline and his eyes were huge. 

''Right'' Ian said, now clearly uncomfortable. 

One of the perks of 'moving out' was being able to be himself without putting his family in danger. No one knew him here, and no one should care. He was supposed to be able to at least be himself. 

Guess he was wrong. 

''I'm sorry but I can't bend over either.'' Ian added, because there was no fucking way he would be able to remove his jeans on his own. Fuck the guy if he wasn't okay with Ian liking dicks, Ian thought that at least he would be reasonable enough to still help him out. 

Mickey didn't understand it as a plead to help him out of his jeans so he could clean himself, though.

''Jesus Christ, I fucking told you, don't say shit like-''

''I MEANT'' Ian let his voice rise up so he could interrupt Mickey. He took a pause, a breath. ''I meant that I can't remove my jeans on my own.''

The look Mickey gave him could have killed, and Ian only smiled a bit, thinking he would just sit on the floor and cry until he died if Mickey left right now. If he actually managed to sit on the floor, that is. 

The guy slowly approached him until he started unzipping his jeans with a clear look of determination, probably wanting to get it over with sooner rather than later.

''Fine, but I'm not doing anything else for your faggot's ass after that.''

Ian rolled his eyes and let all the air right out of his lungs. Lip was the only one who knew back home, and when the offensive word fell out of his brother's lips as a joke, Ian would only laugh. Maybe punch him in the arm a little. Sure, he was used to the word by now, but it sure as hell didn't mean he liked it more.

Right now he figured it wasn't the time to take too much out of it. Mickey was helping him, after all, and that was that.

The silence was tense before Mickey's face changed to something softer and talked again.

''What happened to you?'' He asked. 

''Some fuckers tried to steal my bags while I was sleeping.'' Ian started the short story. ''They were four, I ran after them for a while, until they stopped and decided they could take me.'' 

Mickey nodded, probably imagining the scene in his mind as he pushed Ian's jeans down. Ian carefully stepped out of them, holding on Mickey's left arm. 

''You tried the hospital?'' 

Ian almost laughed at that. 

''I understand those are nasty bruises and I'll probably need to stop walking for a while but I've had worse. And even if I needed something serious I don't have the money for it.''

Mickey laughed as he took a bucket and put it under the rusted tap, the sound of the water splashing at the bottom of it echoing in the bathroom.

''So you're a tough guy, huh? Hospitals are for pussies and all.'' Mickey mocked, giving looks to the bucket every now and then to see when there would be enough water. 

If Ian was in boys town and sitting on a bar stool, he would definitely think Mickey was flirting. But he wasn't, and Mickey probably was not either. He just had this aura around him, this way of talking, that was oddly charming. Ian liked it. 

He slowly bent his knees so he could sit on the edge of the bathtub, feeling awkward just standing up in his boxers. He almost missed it, but thankfully made it, and all he could do was close his eyes to try and overcome the sharp burn of his muscles. 

''I don't think I'm tough. I just try my best to do with what I have.'' 

Mickey quickly raised his eyebrows and let air out of his nostrils at that (seriously, the guy was full of facial expressions), a small smile playing on his lips.  

''Yeah, well, we all try our best with what we have, I guess.'' 

Ian smiled and accepted the bucket when Mickey handed it to him. Ian was good to clean his chest and all, even if he wasn't strong enough to do it fast. The wet cloth felt good in his hands, he couldn't wait to get all that blood away from his skin, couldn't wait to feel new. 

''Thanks for everything, really.''

''Yeah yeah, whatever, I'll be in the hallway.''

Ian didn't know if Mickey suddenly took pity on him, but he slightly smiled as he left the small space, _going to wait for him in the hallway_.

Maybe it was because he was scared of Mickey getting tired of waiting and leaving, or maybe it was because he hadn't decently cleaned himself in weeks, but Ian quickly got to work.  

He started with his face, letting the foam of the soap clean his pores, and he made his way down his body. He rubbed his hands with the towel to get rid of the deepest stains until his skin was red, and he rubbed some more. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine himself sitting in his real bathroom back home, trying to wash away the dirt from his body he got while carelessly fighting with Lip (or Carl) in the backyard, but without using too much water. They didn't have the money for everyone to take a shower every single time they got dirty, but they had buckets and towels, and this little routine wasn't new for him. It went a lot slower than it usually did because everything hurt too much, but still, it wasn't new. Ian was used to this and it made him feel... content. Weirdly content, a little less homesick. 

Soon enough, the water was dirty with blood and other residues, and Ian was as clean as he was gonna get. The only marks on his body left were bruises and cuts who even if they weren't bleeding anymore, the redness around them persisted. 

Just like a miracle, Ian managed to get his shirt off the ground. He didn't know how he felt about putting his dirty clothes back on, especially when he finally smelled fresh and clean. It was like he made a step forward and now he was preparing to make three backwards. 

He put his hands in the holes but then he was lost. 

''Mickey?'' He called, hoping to god he was still there. Sooner he'd heard him carelessly hum some tunes, but for minutes the house had been dead silent. 

''Yeah!'' A voice answered, and not after long, Mickey's body was back in the door frame. He caught on pretty quick and helped Ian get into his t shirt.

''You're aware it smells like piss, right?'' Mickey said after he cringed at the realization.

''Yeah, I'm aware. Assholes took all my clothes and my money and then one decided to ''relieve himself'' on me. It's a dick move but pretty creative, I must admit.''

Mickey laughed and seemed to hesitate on continuing his task of putting the t shirt back on Ian. It was kind of disgusting but it wasn't like there was anything else for him (Mickey's clothes were too small and like hell he was going to offer his favorite sweatshirt to an almost stranger). So Mickey shrugged and let the shirt fall over Ian's body. At least it was dry. 

''Need help with your jeans too, tough guy?'' 

Ian sighed, done with himself and his incapability to do anything on his own, but answered ''Yes, please'', anyways.

When Ian was dressed, Mickey helped him on his feet. 

The awkward silence rose up again partly because Ian didn't know what to say, or how to say it. Mickey didn't look aware he was intensively staring at Ian's face, he seemed deep in his thoughts. Ian looked around and down at himself and looked everywhere until the only thing he could look at was Mickey's blue eyes. 

''Look,'' Mickey said as he seemed to snap out of it. ''I'm not some fucking Mother Theresa, you better know that. And I barely have enough to keep me and my sister alive. But I do have a couch that's a shit ton better than some park's bench, or anything you could find in this shit hole for that matter. Plus, even if she's gonna be confused as fuck my sister's always way too fucking happy to help the ones in need.''

Ian's heart started beating faster only at the idea of a couch to sleep on.

And it was almost cute how Mickey needed to go all 'thug mode' when he did a good action.

Other than the fact that it wasn't cute at all, and Ian needed to fucking stop, damn it. 

''So my place is about 10 blocks away from here. You coming?'' 

Ian eagerly said yes, not even bothering to say ''No, I can't'' first, out of politeness.

The night had already started when they set foot outside, and Ian was thankful for the breeze the outdoors brought to him. It was refreshing, even if he knew he was probably going to feel cold soon. His backpack was held by Mickey, who was slowly waking beside him, leading the way. Ian didn't have to do anything but follow him and move without hurting himself too much.

They didn't talk at all, but for the first time since they met, the silence was comfortable.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback will always be appreciated, and as always, English isn't my first language. Feel free to tell me about any mistakes in the comments so I can correct them. 
> 
> Thank you SO much for reading x


	4. Chapter 4

Ian slept for 21 hours and woke up to the face of Mandy Milkovich. For one small second he forgot where he was. His brain was still foggy with the weird dreams his sleep had been full of, and so when his eyes opened slightly, he thought Mandy was this angel of death. He freaked out a bit. 

''What the-'' he started, his lips dry and his tongue heavy.

''Shush'' the dark haired girl interrupted. ''Drink this.'' She handed him a glass of what Ian guessed was water. 

He thought maybe he shouldn't trust the stranger, thinking there could be anything in that glass, but when he didn't react she basically shoved it in his face and Ian thought the safest solution was to drink. The water felt amazing running down his throat, and he almost drank it all in one big gulp (he didn't even care that it came from the tap). 

The girl seemed satisfied enough, and so she took back the glass and carelessly put it on a coffee table. 

''Mickey!'' She almost screamed. ''Your hobo's awake!'' 

It embarrassingly took Ian too much time to realize ''your hobo'' was a reference to him, but when he did, he sat up straight with a lot of pain. 

''Who the hell are you?'' He asked, half offended and half curious.

She laughed. ''Yeah, that sounds about right, he brings some homeless guy to OUR place and doesn't even bother saying he doesn't live alone.'' She clasped her hands together. ''I'm Mandy fucking Milkovich. Mickey's sister.''

Ian connected the dots. Mickey, guy who'd been kind enough to offer him his couch for the night. Mickey who had mentioned his sister once or twice. Mandy, Mickey's sister. 

''Oh'' he said, looking more intensely at her features. He had to admit she looked a lot like him (and no, he didn't know that because Mickey's face was basically carved into his brain). ''Yeah, yeah, Mickey's sister. He mentioned you, I just, I forgot.'' Plus, he was still feeling a lot dizzy from the time he had spent asleep ; he needed to come back to reality.

Ian heard a door open and turned his head, seeing Mickey come into the living room in sweatpants and in the process of putting on a t shirt.  

''Hey sleeping beauty,'' he said with a smirk on his face. ''Did Mandy have to kiss you so you'd come back to the world of the living?'' 

Mandy shot her brother a weird look, and Ian only smiled. ''Nah, no kissing happened.'' 

''That you know of,'' Mandy joked, and Ian even thought he saw her wink at him. He tried not to think too much of it.

''Whatever,'' Mickey said with a roll of his eyes. ''You can stay for a bit but, please, don't get the fuck out of my couch too late.''

Mickey left the room with that, and Ian was left confused and staring at what used to be his silhouette. He guessed he had been given more than he could have ever asked for, but it was still weird for Mickey to offer him all of that and _still_ act like he hadn't wanted to help him in the first place.

''Yeah, yeah, don't worry, I'll be out-''

''Shut the fuck up. And stay here.'' Mandy said and wow, okay, Ian noticed she had an habit of interrupting people.

She stormed out of the room before he could comment on it, and Ian took a deep breath.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

 

* * *

She angrily closed the bifold door behind her, trusting the stranger in their living to not fuck shit up.

''What the fuck is wrong with you?'' She asked her brother in the half whisper half screaming way she was so good at. 

Mickey closed his eyes and tried to relax. 

''Look, I know you weren't so pumped when I brought him here, but like I fucking said, he'll be out of our shoes in like, 15 minutes.'' 

Mickey didn't have time for this. He knew this was a bad idea all along, he should have trusted his guts instead of that fucking voice in his head who told him a good action wouldn't hurt. It's not like it could make up for all the shit he did, but still, he thought he'd feel better about himself afterwards. He thought he'd go to bed with a ''wow, Mickey, you did something good for once'' for his last thought. 

But what he did instead was make his couch unusable for a whole day and his sister have some crisis.

Mickey was shaken out of his thoughts when Mandy hit him on the arm.

''No, you shithead! You can't just kick him out!'' She looked at him with those eyes, the huge ones accompanied with the raised eyebrows that made her look like a psycho case. She used to make the same ones when they were little and she wanted something from him. 

''Yeah?'' He argued in a laughter. ''Why not?''

She sighed and Mickey got the sudden urge to punch himself in the face. He was so stupid.

''Sometimes I wonder if you're even human.'' She joked while she poured herself a glass of water. ''We're not kicking him out. I don't care if I have to sleep on the floor. It's obvious he needs some kind of help. I'm not as heartless as you.'' She glared at him.

And that reminded Mickey Mandy could be stupid, too. 

''Look, this has nothing to do with the heart I have or don't have. Do you actually see the shit hole we live in?'' Mandy looked around her once and then shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. ''It's even worse than when we lived with dad! I can barely hold my job and the tips you get make us eat what? Pasta or rice every single night? Mandy, we don't have enough to fucking help him in any way.''

She laughed in his face and Mickey wanted to punch himself in the face, again, only so he could punch something.

''Letting him sleep on our couch didn't cost us shit. And he could get himself a job around here.'' 

With her insistence, Mickey could hear the unspoken words. _I know you_ , she could say. _You're the one who brought him here in the first place, it means you care at least a little._  But thank god she didn't open her mouth to say that. 

''It doesn't matter,'' he said. ''From what I understood, he needed to walk away further.'' 

Mandy tilted her head a little, and if she still had been 5 years old, Mickey would have found it cute. ''So he's walking away from something, huh? Did that something find him? Is that why he's so beat up?'' 

Oh, shit. Ian must be hurting like a bitch. When they had gotten here, the guy had basically passed out on the couch as soon as he saw it, and Mickey had only left him there. But, contrary to popular belief, he wasn't completely heartless, so he ignored his sister while he fished two bags of frozen peas out of the freezer and then opened the door that linked the living room to the kitchen so his body could pass. 

''Hey!'' He called out. Ian looked at him. He was still sitting on the couch and hadn't moved from his place, as if he was scared to make even one little movement. Mickey threw the bags on a spot that wasn't too far away from him on the couch and didn't say another word (but he still heard Ian say Thank you! when he closed the door behind himself).

Mandy was dumbly smiling at him, her back pressed against their fridge.

''You care.'' She said, still with that smug smile on her face.   

''Fuck you.'' He only answered to that, pushing Mandy away so he could take a beer for himself. He didn't give a shit that it wasn't even pass 10 am. 

She smiled but then her mood seemed to change rather radically, the features of her face slowly coming down into a sad face. 

''So, why is he so beat up?'' 

Mickey answered in between sips. ''Some kids tried to steal his bags while he was asleep. He ran after them but got beat up in the end. He managed to keep one of his bags, though.'' 

''And you still want to kick him out of here when you know he's only got half of his stuff? No fucking way.''

Mandy made her way out of the kitchen without saying anything else, not bothering to wait for her brother's answer. At first, Mickey thought the conversation was just over for now and they would talk about it some other time, he thought that Mandy maybe stormed off into her bedroom in a momentum of madness. But then, he heard her talking, and he realized.

''Jesus fucking Christ.'' He dropped his beer bottle on the counter and followed Mandy out, but as soon as he set foot in the living room, it was too late. Ian was talking, 

''Like I said, I feel like I'm taking way too much... Are you sure?'' 

''We're sure. Huh, Mickey?'' Mandy said, turning her head towards him, her mouth smiling but her eyes screaming 'I'm going to kill you if you don't agree right this second'. Mickey knew better than to argue with Mandy when she was so caught up on an idea, especially when she was half right about the fact that he could make some money come in for himself. He sighed.

''Fine. But I'm not cleaning his shit off the carpet.'' 

He turned his back on Ian's confused look, wanting to get to his bedroom as soon as possible.

''He compared you to a dog.'' He heard Mandy said and he smiled because yes, his sister understood him so well when she wasn't a bitch about stuff. He didn't wait to hear Ian's answer to that but closed his door.

The silence and comfort of his bedroom made him close his eyes, letting all the air out of his lungs in one breath. They had so much shit to take care off, it definitely wasn't a good time to take some homeless teenager home.

Homeless teenager named Ian. Mickey didn't know the last name, and he didn't want to, but part of him wanted to know his story. He looked like he could do well in life, he didn't have Fuck-u-up tattooed on his knuckles like he did, he didn't have many scars on his skin. Ian was young and too kind to be wandering off in the world alone, Mickey didn't understand. Why would he choose this for himself? Was it because he's gay? Mandy and him barely had a choice in it, and even then, Mickey sometimes wondered if they made the right one. Maybe the only options they had in front of them were running away or killing their father at the time, but maybe they could have thought about it better. Someone could have helped them or some shit, hell, even the police.

 _At least we're safe_ , Mickey told himself. That was the important thing, even if they weren't 100% always happy all the time, even if they didn't have any friends or family nearby, they were safe. 

And maybe Ian would be safe with them too, maybe staying with them was his best option. 

Mickey heard the shower running when he sat down on his bed. The kid was already costing him water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This excuse for a chapter is way too short and I tried Mickey's POV. Did it suck? It probably sucked. Sorry.


	5. Chapter 5

The couch and him became one as Ian took a lot of his time resting on it to get better. Mandy had insisted on him going to the hospital soon in his stay, said that at least they could know if something serious was going on even if they didn't have the money to fix whatever it was. Mickey hadn't bothered to come, he insisted it would be a waste of time for him and that he had better shit to do. Mandy was a sweet girl, though, and she even proposed to hold his hand while they waited for the results. It reminded Ian how young she was, especially to live on her own with her brother, who wasn't that much older. Of course Ian didn't say so, because he was not in a good place to judge. He was barely months older than Mandy. 

They had waited for a while but eventually, the doctor had confirmed with a nod of his head that one of his ribs was broken. Thankfully, that needed to heal on its own, even if it would take a lot of time (about 2 months). Ian figured he would be able to function properly before that, or at least he hoped so. He still had bruises, and cuts, but those didn't hurt as much anymore. He was soon going to go back to his old, normal self. He would only be miserable on the inside. 

He tried his best not to eat too much and to take the shortest showers known to man, knowing that because he still didn't have a job, he was costing them a lot. He always went to bed feeling guilty, ashamed to be sleeping on someone else's couch without giving anything else in return. He wasn't like his father, he couldn't benefit from someone's charity and feel proud of himself for it. It made him feel sick to think that those were the kind of things Frank often did. It made him want to find every single person Frank had taken advantage of and apologize in person, give them something back, but he knew that even if he tried, as soon as they would hear 'Gallagher' they would beat him half to death. So Ian gave back to Mickey and Mandy in the ways he could, because there was no way he was going to end up like his father. He cleaned the dishes and prepared food, managed to make something new out of pastas every once in a while. His 'talents' in cooking had Mickey moaning around his fork almost every evening and Ian couldn't help but feel proud of himself. It had taken a while but the older Milkovich had finally gotten somewhat used to Ian being around. 

And tonight they were home alone for the very first time since Ian was welcomed there. Mandy had a date with some guy she worked with. Ian somewhat felt like his safety net had been ripped from under his feet when the door closed behind Mandy earlier that night. He knew very well she was the one that had insisted on him staying here, and he knew very well that even if Mickey was used to him by now, that didn't mean he liked him. Ian felt intimidated by Mickey, felt like the guy could kill him with a stare whenever he wanted. 

They were watching Tv, Mickey faking interest in some reality show Ian wasn't even pretending to be watching. The evening had been pretty uneventful, and Ian felt stuck in his own skin sitting on the couch with Mickey so close to him. He felt afraid to move even one finger, in fear of bothering his host. It was like his brain was telling him he needed to be as small as possible to stay here. 

All in all, Ian felt pretty uncomfortable until Mickey said, 

''You really need to get yourself a job,'' around a mouthful of pizza. 

Then, Ian didn't only feel uncomfortable, he felt downright horrible.

''Yeah! Yes! Of course!'' He hurried to say, ignoring the pit of guilt growing at the bottom of his stomach. ''I'll go job hunting tomorrow.''

"'Kay, great.'' Mickey paused to swallow his bite. He seemed deep in his thoughts for a while and Ian nodded to himself, looking back at the Tv screen. Even if they had every right to, they weren't kicking him out yet, and that was a good thing. 

Ian didn't really know how he could feel it but he started to sense the energy of the room rising up, getting more tense. He was about to excuse himself to the bathroom, obviously not being able to hide into his bedroom like he used to when things started to feel awkward. 

But he didn't have time. Mickey spoke up first.

''Why did you run away?'' 

Ian froze. Home was always at the back of his mind these days, like a voice screaming constantly that he needed to shut down. Like an alarm clock that he kept hitting on snooze but always came back ringing louder sooner or later. It was hell, and he refused to charge up his phone, even if Mandy had offered more than once. He couldn't bring himself to look at all the missed calls or texts, didn't want to deal with having to delete them all. Home was just something he was willing to forget, or at least trying really hard to, and now Mickey was staring at him, waiting for an answer.

''Um,'' He cleared his throat, looked into Mickey's blue eyes. ''Things were too rough. It just wasn't safe anymore.'' He comforted himself in the fact that at least he wasn't lying.

''Things are always too rough and they're never fucking _safe_ , Ian.'' Mickey said. ''You really believe you're safer alone on the streets?''

Ian bitterly laughed,

''Well at least I'm not in the south side anymore. That's one hell of an improvement.''

It was Mickey's turn to laugh as he dropped the pizza crust in the box.

''This place isn't that much better than the south side. We're still all poor as shit and bad people are everywhere if you look close enough.''

Of course Ian had noticed this neighborhood wasn't technically south side, but it wasn't rich and pretty either. The safe thing was that he was away from _his_ south side, but he couldn't say that.

So ''Bad people are everywhere, huh?'', he said instead. ''You one of them?''

Mickey faked a reaction,

''I'm offended!'' He answered, rising up to his feet. ''Am I not the one welcoming you under my roof? That doesn't really scream 'bad guy' to me.''

Ian stood up too and started picking up the trash of their dinner.

''You were literally selling drugs on the corner of a street when I met you, Mick.'' The nickname fell so easily from his lips he didn't even notice he said it until it was too late.

_Mick_ didn't seem to think too much of it, though.     

''Yeah, for my brother. Not that it's any of your business but I had reasons.'' 

''Sure,'' Ian said sounding not so convinced, because even if he understood, it was way more fun to tease him.

They made their way to the kitchen, and Ian allowed himself to dumbly smile only because Mickey's back was facing him. Ian liked that version of Mickey, the one who made jokes and shared a bit. It was a way better evening than what Ian had expected. 

They cleaned up a bit, until Mickey gave up and muttered 'Fuck it' under his breath and stopped midway. His hands were still wet from his attempt at cleaning the dishes that had been accumulated in the sink, and he'd decided to give up when too much wet food touched his skin. He stepped away from the counter while shaking his hands in front of him, droplets flying everywhere.

''It's fine, I'll take care of it.'' Ian offered, happy to. ''Mandy's probably going to come back soon anyways, she'll help me dry it all up.'' Both had taken an habit of doing the dishes together, Ian would wash and Mandy would dry while talking about useless stuff. It usually was the most interactive part of Ian's day. 

''You're a fool to think she's even coming back here tonight.'' Mickey only answered but didn't stay to help Ian. He walked away towards the bathroom, and Ian was left staring at the back of his head. He was right ; they were on the edge of midnight and Mandy had left at five. She was staying the night at his place, and Ian made himself believe the guy was good enough to deserve the sweetest (but also scariest) girl he'd ever met in his, well, life.  

He finished cleaning the dishes alone and dried them alone. He stepped into his pajamas and sat on the couch alone, staring at nothing but the wall for a while. 

And he fell asleep alone, with Mickey's snores as a background. 

 

* * *

 

It was weird, to jerk off in a place that wasn't his. He made himself not think about the times he got off in a place that wasn't his house, and with who, because he couldn't deal with that right now. He needed to deal with his dick that desperately needed relief. 

It had been way too awkward to wake up with a morning wood and Mandy staring down at him. She had said something along the lines of ''I'm not saying no sex ever happened on this couch, but for the love of god I hope you're not taking care of your dick here.'' and Ian had just ran off into the bathroom. The last thing he heard before shutting the door close was Mickey laughing and oh, fuck that. 

He'd been sleeping in a common room for a few days now, and no matter how much he tried, it was hard to cover up his hard on without it being too obvious. He'd managed at first, succeeded at keeping it down for more days than he remembered keeping it down for (seriously, his teenager self needed some credit for that). But his body was stubborn and this morning he just _couldn't_.

So today his shower would be longer than it usually was. Ian figured he shouldn't feel guilty about it : he'd given his CV to basically every shop in a 5 miles radius, and he would be able to help out with some money soon enough. 

Ian closed his eyes and tugged on his dick some more. He wasn't getting close but he wasn't exactly that far either. He thought about the things that usually made him going : a hot mouth, full lips, great tongue and great hands. He made himself keep his eyes closed, afraid to see Mandy's shampoo or Mickey's razor and remember where he was. 

He wasn't imagining a scenario like he usually would, it looked more like flashing images in his head. A guy's dick in his mouth or a guy bent over, and if the guy had dark hair and the ghost of a face Ian recognized, well, that was nobody's business.

He brushed a thumb on the head of his dick and almost fucking shuddered, because suddenly he was thinking about Mickey doing the same thing in the same shower. He stroked more rapidly now, he didn't have the patience or the time to take things slow. His hips made a rhythm of their own as he basically fucked his fist, and then the rhythm broke until Ian was coming down the drain.

His breath was heavy on his lips as he let the water wash it all away. He had his back against the biggest wall of the shower, and he let the force of his orgasm wash over him. He'd had better, but right now it felt like the best thing in the world. 

He tried to recover quickly, but even when he got out the bathroom with a t shirt clinging to his skin, Ian still felt orgasmic. He checked the clock on the wall and found out it was 7:23 AM. Mandy had left for work already, and Mickey would leave soon enough. Ian tried not to think too much of the fact that he knew they schedule basically by heart. 

Said Mickey was standing in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hands and a weird look on his face. Ian soon realized Mickey was intensively staring at him, and then he felt the blush creeping on his own cheeks. Of course the guy knew Ian's shower had been longer than usual, and of course he was a guy and of course he fucking knew what Ian had been doing in there. 

Ian prayed to a god he didn't really believe in that it wouldn't be too awkward. 

''Hey,'' He said, opening the fridge to get the orange juice. 

''You're up early for a guy who doesn't work,'' Mickey stated, taking a sip of his black coffee. 

''Mandy woke me up'' he said, ''And I don't really sleep in a lot anyways.'' 

Mickey nodded and put his jacket on. He was working at some hardware store, and he even had a name tag. It was almost cute ; he looked professional. 

''But talking about work,'' Ian started, knowing he had to bring it up once and for all. ''I put the phone number of this place on my CV. Does it bother you in any way?'' 

Mickey gave Ian another one of his looks before saying, 

''Well, not really, you basically stay in all day so it's not like you'll miss a call. But why? Don't you have a cell?'' 

Ian didn't put his cell number because he just couldn't bring himself to touch his phone. Opening it would make him want to call his family too much, and only seeing their names on the screen would feel like a stab in his chest. He just couldn't, he'd rather pretend he didn't even have one in the first place. The guilt felt less heavy that way. 

''No one pays for it anymore, I can't receive or make any calls.'' Ian had no idea if Fiona was still paying his phone bill back at home. The only reason she would would be because she wanted him to be safe or whatever. But Ian had been gone for almost a month now, and he knew that if they could get one bill off their shoulder, they would. 

Mickey could have asked, ''How do you know? I haven't seen you even touch your phone''. But he didn't, only nodded and finished his cup. Ian was incredibly thankful for Mickey not caring this time. 

Soon enough, the other boy left to go make some well needed money and Ian was alone in the small apartment. Again.

He wanted to punch something, to make something, someone, hurt. He wanted to find a way to let all of his rage out, he needed to feel strong again. Because this, this pathetic and useless version of him made him want to crawl out of his own skin. Mickey and Mandy were too good, they were rough around the edges and brutal but they were too kind to him. Ian felt too much like he didn't deserve any of it. It was all his fault, all of it. Every single thing in his life that had gone wrong were because of decisions he made, and he tried to run away from it all. He really did. But it was like his problems were hiding in his shadow, and when he made the steps to get away from home he was facing the sun. It hurt because it shun to bright but it was all so magical, leaving it all behind him. Now though, slowly but surely, his shadow was catching up on him. Mickey and Mandy helped in some way, but Ian was still always alone with his own thoughts and it was all starting to catch up on him. 

He screamed.  


	6. Chapter 6

Ian got called from two places over the course of three weeks and, after going to the interviews, he chose the one that payed the more. It was only a little over the minimum wage, but it was still pretty good, considering that the job wasn't half bad. Right now he was on training, but really all they needed were strong arms to move a shit ton of boxes, and Ian could do that. Of course sometimes he was needed to cover people behind a counter, but Ian had experience with that. He was pretty confident they would hire him for real soon enough.

It was a big convenience store, knowing that it was owned by a family and not a multinational, and Ian liked it so far. It made him move and work out in a way he'd almost forgotten how to. It got his mind off things. It made him feel useful, when other employees smiled at him and thanked him for mostly doing the job they hated to do. 

Ian had to admit that the one thing he really loved about the job was that he wasn't alone. He wasn't spending his days sitting behind a counter waiting for someone to come in and buy one fucking chocolate bar while barely saying two words. When he got the job at 14, sitting on his ass and getting paid for it seemed like the dream job. Back then, he loved the Kash and Grab, but now the name would burn the tip of his tongue if he tried to say it out loud. The simple fact that he was surrounded by people now was refreshing, a nice change that made him forget his old job and what came with it (and who). 

Other employees were nice, too. He met Priscilla (well, Prissy) on his first official day. She was this round, energetic and way too happy to be up early kind of person. She'd extended her hand and presented herself with a big smile on her face, waiting for Ian to do the same even if they both knew she could just read his name tag. 

''I'm Ian,'' He'd said, not really knowing what to add. It seemed like a long time since he'd met someone such as her, with a natural big smile on their face.

''Nice to meet you,'' She said in a way that made Ian wonder if she thought he was a grown up. Teenagers he knew back home presented themselves between drags of shared cigarettes, and they didn't fake the happiness to meet someone new with some catch phrase everybody knew. They just said their names and asked if you wanted to do some crazy shit with them. It always seemed easier that way, at least it did to Ian, because now he didn't know what to tell her. 

Nice to meet you too? That wasn't true. 

He only nodded with the best smile he could manage on his lips and made his way to the back so he could finish unpacking the new arrivals. He wouldn't have been surprised if Prissy would have followed him, but thankfully she didn't, and Ian was glad to know the girl knew boundaries. 

From that moment Prissy became the girl Ian would eat his lunches with, stuff that didn't really matter passing her lips to make conversation. Ian appreciated the time he spent with her. She didn't know he was a run away, she didn't know he hadn't seen his family in over a month now, she didn't know anything about him except that his name was Ian and that he didn't eat a whole lot. She didn't ask about the bruises turned yellow if she noticed them, and she didn't comment on the fact that Ian made a face if something was too heavy, hand pressing on the side of his body when his ribs were complaining. It was nice, she didn't get her nose into his business. She was Ian's judgement free zone. 

There were days like today when Ian would come back from work exhausted and sweaty, sometimes even in pain, and he would forget all about Prissy or his other co workers as he sat beside Mickey on the couch. 

They had been doing that thing where they would both sit side by side after work, drinking a beer or two while watching whatever was on Tv until Mandy arrived. When Ian opened the door today, though, he found he didn't need to make the small walk to the kitchen to get himself his beer. Mickey already had one out for him, and Ian took it with a small smile hanging on his lips. The bottle was sweating but it was still cold, and the other man seemed to think nothing of the gesture. But Ian did.

Of course he had to say something about it.

''Aw, you thought about me.'' He said as he took a first sip, almost moaning at the sight of Mickey doing the same. His lips were just so beautifully wrapped around the edge of the bottle, it truly was unbearable.

''Yeah, yeah, okay.'' Mickey only said kind of ironically, but he still stopped himself from making eyes contact and Ian had learned by now that that meant something. His own smile grew bigger, but he hid it behind his beer as he took a big gulp.

Nothing particular happened after that until Mandy came back home, her white shirt soaked wet with some black liquid (Pepsi?) as she shut the door in a bang.

''Fuck!'' She almost screamed to herself, dropping her bag on the floor next to the shoes. She made her way to the living room and stole Mickey's beer, finishing it in one go and Ian could have sworn she'd throw it on the floor. Thankfully she didn't. ''Fucking bitches who think they own the fucking world.'' She commented before dropping her ass into the armchair. 

''The fuck happened?'' Mickey asked, looking at his sister like she was crazy. Ian guessed that was because she finished his beer, but even Mickey wasn't stupid enough to complain about it to Mandy when she was in such a mood. 

''Some fucking bitch was super convinced I was sleeping with her boyfriend or some shit. The guy works in the kitchen and I bet even his asshole smells like grease, why the hell would I sleep with that?'' She paused, throwing a hand in the air to show how stupid that sounded. ''Anyways, she walks into the dinner like nothing's wrong, and you know, I do my fucking job. The bitch commands a drink and as soon as I get it to her, she stands up and has the nerve to throw it on me!''

She paused again, looking at the both of them with a crazy look on her face. Ian could almost be scared.

''She starts screaming that nobody touches what's hers or whatever, that she found my hair on his t shirt and fuck, she's just bat shit crazy.''

Mandy then seemed to relax every muscle she had in one go and her body dropped into the armchair.

Mickey just laughed.

''Jesus Christ.'' He says between breaths. ''Tell me she left with at least a beautiful black eye?''

''I can't hit a mother fucking client, you retard! You want me to loose my job? Didn't think so.'' Mandy said as she got up, almost tripping over Ian's bag in her hurry.

''Fuck,'' she says, suddenly looking at Ian. ''We really got to find you a better room than this. It's starting to drive me nuts.'' 

Ian sighed. He knew. Even with all his efforts to keep everything in the living room as clean as it could be, sometimes it still wasn't enough. Sleeping on the couch was a hell lot better than on the street, but still, it wasn't the most comfortable thing ever created. It was starting to drive him nuts too.

''Well we can't do shit about it.'' Mickey said, Ian turning his attention to him.

 

* * *

 

Two days later Ian came home to see that Mickey wasn't sitting on the couch like usual. He buried his disappointment inside him with a swallow and walked over to the kitchen to get a beer. Maybe he worked late, maybe he was busy with something else. It didn't matter, he told himself. It's not like they did a whole lot when he was there, anyways. Mickey wasn't one to talk much, and even if he didn't seem to mind Ian's company, Ian couldn't even say they were friends. His only chance to make any form of ''contact'' with the guy was after work. It was almost what Ian was looking up to during his work day, he was that pathetic.  

He only noticed the voices coming from what seemed to be Mickey's room when he closed the door of the fridge. He had thought he was alone, and so he jumped a little. 

''Hey! He's a good guy, why the fuck not?''

That was Mandy. In Mickey's room? Why was she back so early? Was she talking about him? 

Ian didn't knock or opened the door, he only got closer to it so he could hear more clearly. He didn't want to interrupt something private or important, but he _was_ curious as hell. 

''Why do you care so much? You got a stupid crush on him or what? I'm sorry cause that ain't happening.'' 

Mickey. They were definitely talking about him. 

''Oh my god, stop changing the subject. It's a fucking mattress at the corner of your room, get over it.'' Mandy seemed beyond done with her brother, and Ian started to catch up on what was going on. His heart suddenly started to beat faster. 

''Why not in your room, then?'' Mickey said, but even on the other side of the room Ian could hear in his voice that it was over, Mickey couldn't get out of it. And to be honest, Ian could understand why the guy wouldn't be thrilled at the idea of having a roomie, especially since he'd been having his own room for ages now. He didn't let it be personal. 

''Yours is way bigger, Mick.'' Mandy only said and before Ian could understand that the conversation was over and leave to the living room, the door opened. Mandy stopped in her tracks when she saw that he was standing in front of her, and Ian thanked god he didn't have his ear pressed against the door or whatever.

''Ian!'' Mandy said with a smile on her face. ''I've got great news!'' 

Ian was taken aback a bit, but he recovered quickly and smiled around the word, 

''What?'' 

''Fuck the couch, you're sleeping in Mickey's room now.'' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my shortest chapter so far, and it took me ages to write. Sorry about that. I'm just trying sooooooo hard to make it go somewhere haha.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I swear this is finally going somewhere interesting)

Ian's day at work started like any other day. He walked into the place with a look of death on his face, tired eyes making his vision almost blurry. He didn't really know what was worse. Of course he loved not having his long limbs forced into being smaller due to the lack of place on the couch, and he absolutely adored sleeping on a mattress. It didn't even matter that it was a single one, he never even learned the luxury of having a double. But, sleeping in Mickey's room meant sleeping with Mickey in the room. Meaning having to deal with Mickey's snores and heavy breathing.

Ian's past nights weren't really the most restful of them all. It wasn't like he missed the couch and the incapacity to move that came with it, he really was thankful for the mattress. He hadn't been that comfortable in a sleeping place in a long time. And Ian was supposed to be used to snores, having lived pretty much all of his life in a bedroom that wasn't only his. But in the short time he spent sleeping there, he got used to the peaceful silence in the living room. 

Thankfully, sleeping in Mickey's room also meant spending a lot more time with the guy. It made exchanges of words that would have never happened before possible, such as ''Your socks are on my goddamn bed.'' and ''Jesus, I'm changing, get the fuck out.'' and... okay. It was mostly Mickey complaining about Ian's plain existence, but he sometimes got the chance to slip a word or two that made Mickey laugh.

It was worth the dark circles under his eyes and the look Prissy gave him when he almost fell asleep during their lunch time.

''Hell, what's up with you?'' She asked, chewing around a mouthful of her sandwich. 

''Nothing, just tired, that's all.'' 

She laughed, threw a carrot at his face, and Ian barely moved one finger. 

''Yeah, I can see that. But why? Your shift started at 9 this morning, I've seen you start at 6 and look more alive than anyone in this place.''

Ian couldn't help but smile a bit, and he contemplated telling her about his situation. She seemed to care a little, and it was the least he could do when she put up with his non-social ass almost every day.

''Um, well, it's really fucking complicated. But right now I'm sleeping at a friend's place and I used to be fine on the couch, yeah?'' He stopped, having expected her to interrupt him to ask why he was sleeping on a couch. She didn't. ''I was getting kind of in the way. So now I have a mattress in Mickey's room. The problem is,'' He smiled despite himself. ''It's that he snores a lot.'' 

Prissy raised her eyebrows, but still nodded in understatement.

''And Mickey is...?'' 

''He owns the place. With his sister, Mandy. I'm kind of hanging there until I find myself something better, I guess. It's also kind of why I took this job.'' 

Ian didn't really want to say much more, and he expected Prissy to say something along the lines of ''Oh, okay.'' and move on, because it's not like there was anything she could do. 

''Ian, what the fuck?'' Wasn't what he was expecting from her. At all. 

''Huh?'' He said, taken aback. 

''How old are you? Seventeen? Don't you have parents? A family? Why aren't you living with them?'' She had a genuine look of concern on her face, and Ian suddenly wanted to throw up.

''Like I said, it's really fucking complicated.'' Ian pushed his dinner away and was one hundred percent ready to leave the room when Prissy panicked,

''Wait! Whoa! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to pry or anything.''  Her eyes were wide when she placed a hand on top of one of Ian's. 

''It's fine.'' He said, because even if it wasn't, not really, he knew she didn't mean to. The word 'family' just stung a little too much, and that wasn't her fault.

Prissy seemed to relax only when Ian didn't look like he was moving anywhere anymore.

''But, seriously, you're sleeping on the floor? That doesn't sound too nice.''

He nodded. It was better than 3 weeks prior, but he wasn't about to tell her that. 

''I live with my Dad in a building about two blocks away from here.'' She continued. ''The landlord is pretty nice, and I'm not sure if you can even sign a lease before you turn eighteen but, there would definitely be some place for you there. It's cheap.'' 

Ian froze. Him? Have his own place? His own kitchen with his own furniture, the freedom to do whatever the hell he wanted. He'd never really have anything that was completely his, not really. He'd never been truly independent, and even today all he was getting was a small taste of it, living with Mickey and Mandy. To have the whole deal sounded almost too perfect. 

''You serious?'' He asked, because maybe she would realize how crazy her "offer" sounded. Did he even have the money to rent himself a place? This job wasn't even paying him $15 the hour. 

''I mean, it would be better than to sleep on a mattress on the floor with snores as background.'' She smiled, getting her phone out of her pocket. ''And having you in the building wouldn't be too bad, either.'' 

She handed him her phone, 

''Write your phone number in there. I'll call you with some details later this week, yeah? I only work on Sunday and that's pretty far away if I can talk to my landlord tomorrow.'' 

The world seemed to stop for a moment because Ian wouldn't budge. Taking the phone in his hands meant accepting that there was a possibility he could have a place of his own. Maybe it would be way easier to just say no, that it's crazy, that he's seventeen and that he's still pretty much scared shitless to be on his own. It would avoid a shit ton disappointment.

But, what the hell? 

He entered the phone number he now knew by heart into Prissy's phone. 

''But don't call if you wanna talk to me about your new boyfriend or whatever, it ain't my phone to chit chat with.'' He warned, because if there was one thing he knew it was that Prissy really liked to talk. 

''Don't worry,'' She said. ''Only important stuff.'' 

Ian smiled, and then sighed when he realized he needed to get back to work in about... 30 seconds. 

 

* * *

 

When he finally got home, Mickey wasn't there, but Mandy was. He asked where Mickey was right off the bat, and she only shrugged. She had no idea, and frankly she ''couldn't give two shits''. Thankfully she didn't ask why he did.

He didn't tell her about Prissy's offer, maybe because part of him forgot about it, or maybe because he didn't want her to kick him out if she thought he could handle himself on his own. That was just not the case yet, and to be honest, he wasn't ready to talk about it that seriously. 

They were watching a rerun of CSI, nothing serious, when Mandy turned to face him and said, 

''You know, Mickey and I ran away from home too.''

His eyebrows raised on their own and he found himself feeling stressed out. Maybe she wanted him to open up, to share his story or whatever. Still, even if the fear was creeping up on him, he was brave enough to keep eyes contact and to let his voice form a ''Mmh?'', mentioning for her to continue.

''Our Dad's a dick. Terry Milkovich, the man who would kill you if you dared step on his property without permission. Seriously, he made his cash by putting people in the ground and he made his fun with alcohol. I don't know if you have any experience with people like that, but Jesus fucking Christ. Living in his home just wasn't safe anymore, especially for Mickey and me.''  

He nodded, wanting to say ''That sucks'' and ''I'm sorry for you'' but not quite knowing which one to say first. He felt awkward, not in his place, like he was listening to a conversation he wasn't a part of. Like it wasn't his right to hear Mandy's story like that. 

''You don't have to,'' he said, because maybe she thought he would feel better in their home knowing stuff like that about them. He didn't.

''No, I want to, I... Mickey doesn't like to talk about all that shit. He would say something like 'The past is in the past, get the fuck over it.' And I just... I need something more, you know?''

Yeah, he knew.

''Why wasn't it safe especially for you and Mickey?'' He asked. If she needed to talk, the least he could do was listen to her. 

She gulped, looked around the room like she was searching for an exit for half a second. But then, she recovered, nodded to herself and wouldn't let go of Ian's stare.

''Sometimes when... when Terry drank too much. He'd get confused. You don't know that, but I look a lot like my mom. And when he'd be... in that state, he'd come into my room, and he would be convinced I was her, and he-''

''Shit.'' Ian couldn't help but say. He knew where this was going and God, he wanted her to stop talking. ''No, that's not... shit. I'm sorry, Mandy.''

He watched as her eyes teared up a bit, as she pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. Would it be too much if he hugged her? Probably. She took a breath like she wanted to inhale all of the oxygen in the room before letting it all out of his lungs in one go, trying to get herself together.

''Yeah. It's... it's fucked up. And Mickey, well, Mickey's reason isn't really my secret to tell.'' 

When Ian had understood what happened to Mandy in the past, he kind of just assumed Mickey had left with her so she wouldn't be alone. It's the kind of thing Ian would have done for Debbie, probably. The kind of things brothers do for their little sisters, you love them so much you're willing to give up everything so they could be safe.

''You mean he didn't leave with you so you wouldn't be alone?''

Mandy smiled a bit, a pensive look on her face.

''Well, maybe a bit. But it's more than that. He,'' she laughed. ''He would kill me if I told you.'' 

''That bad?'' He asked, because yes, he was desperate to learn more about the guy, and if Mickey would rarely talk to him, well, through Mandy was the only way. He'd never needed to do that before, get to know someone through someone else. He'd never felt the _need_. No one he'd ever met had been important or interesting enough for Ian to really want to get to know them, especially if that other person did not want to know Ian back. Strangely, with Mickey, Ian felt different. It was like the guy was a locked door, and he wanted too much to open it and see what it hid, if only because of his curiosity. 

Mostly, Ian hated the way he desperately wanted Mandy to open up and tell him why Mickey left his home.

''Yeah, that bad.'' She said, and Ian thought well, that's it. He was never going to know that part of Mickey. 

But, instead of getting up and leaving the room with some ''Thank you for listening to me'' crap like Ian expected her to, Mandy kept on talking.

''It's really none of your business. But I guess if you're not okay with it I can just kick you out, so it's whatever. If I tell you, though, you need to promise me to keep your mouth shut, alright? He can't know I told you.''

''Of course,'' the answer was immediate, like Ian had been waiting all his life for it. The possibilities were endless. Why did Mickey leave his home? From Mandy's experience, the place didn't seem like heaven, and Ian doubted their Dad was only a drunk around Mandy. So it had to have some kind of repercussion on Mickey's life, Mickey's choices, too. And Ian would understand if it was that : he had spent many nights trying to shut out Frank's voice as he screamed downstairs about how ungrateful they all were, wondering what his life would be like if he just left. Having a drunk, abusive, asshole father was a reason to run away Ian could understand, it really was. 

But Mandy was making it sound like it was way more than that. 

''The bad thing with Terry is that, in addition to everything else, he's also an homophobic piece of shit.'' Mandy had her eyebrows raised a tiniest bit as she nodded her head to every word.

Ian's brain went from being curious to being a complete mess.

Mickey had ran away because his dad was homophobic. Meaning that...

''Mickey's gay?'' He asked, his disbelief clear on the features of his face. 

''If he hears you say that, you're a dead man.'' Was her only answer.

''Shit.'' It was one of the only word that came to Ian's mind, or maybe there was also 'Fuck' and 'Oh my god'. He didn't really know.

_Mickey's gay. Mickey's **gay**._

''You got a problem with that?'' Mandy asked, puffing her chest a little and staring at him like she wanted him to know she could kill him in an instant. 

''No, no, of course not. It's just... really surprising.'' 

Surprising was the word. Mickey Milkovich screamed straight, Ian never would have fucking guessed. He ignored the annoying voice in his head who kept saying that maybe now he had a decent chance with the guy. Maybe he did, maybe the voice was right, but Ian knew better. Mickey didn't seem to like him very much, no matter how many times he helped him out or put up with him. The fact that he was attracted to guys didn't change the fact that, well, he didn't seem attracted to Ian. That was just a fact.

''Yeah, well,'' Mandy said, bringing Ian out of his thoughts and back into reality.

She got off the couch, putting her hair into a ponytail, and Ian watched her, mesmerized. She had gotten through so much, was probably still going through it right this second, and still she was so strong. Stronger than Ian would ever be. She had the strength to tell all of that to him, to open up, and he couldn't even bring himself to say Kash's name out loud.  

''Mandy?'' He said, his voice shaking around the word.

''Yeah?'' 

''Why did you tell me all this?''

She smiled,

''I guess I trust you.''

 

* * *

 

 

''I got weed'' Were Mickey's first words as he opened the door to his (their?) bedroom. 

It was past 11 PM, Ian couldn't bother to be sure what time exactly. It was also a Friday night, the best night of all, so it wasn't like Ian had been sleeping or anything. No, he'd been reading a book Prissy let him borrow, one he wasn't quite sure what it was about since he'd only read the first few pages. But Prissy's taste in mostly anything was almost always good in Ian's opinion, so he trusted her when she said it was the best thing she had ever read. 

While Ian had started reading the ''masterpiece'', Mickey went out. He didn't say where exactly, or what for, and of course Ian had been curious as fuck. His roommate was always going out and coming back with no explication, and when Ian talked about it to Mandy, she said that she stopped worrying about it, and that you eventually got used to it. But tonight, well, the mystery was solved. 

''Oh, cool'' Ian only said, because what the hell was he supposed to answer to that? He wasn't quite sure if Mickey was implying that they would smoke it together, or he was only saying it to show off. It was always difficult territory with Mickey, Ian constantly felt like he was walking on egg shells. He didn't want to piss him off, or to be too intrusive, and Ian had just never been so self conscious before. 

He smiled in his direction so he wouldn't sound like a complete douchebag and lowered his head so he could continue reading. 

''Are you gonna light it up with me or you'd rather read that probably boring as fuck thing?'' Mickey asked as he started rolling a joint without even looking at him.

The choice was easy, and so Ian immediately sat up from his bed and sat beside Mickey (not too close, though). It had been a long time since he got high, and Ian couldn't even recall if it had been with Lip or if he'd been alone. Either way, it was when he was still back home, before any of the shit started to go down. 

''Is this your first time?'' Mickey asked, still not looking at him but concentrating on making sure the joint was even. 

Ian laughed at that, because well, maybe he looked innocent if you compared him to Mickey, but still. 

''I grew up in the south side with two older siblings, what do you think? Weed is not a big deal.'' 

The other boy 'hummed', and Ian took that as ''you made a point''. He ignored the fact that he felt almost proud.

''How many siblings do you have?'' Mickey asked before licking a stripe on the edge of the paper. It took Ian a bit to answer, his eyes fixed on Mickey's tongue, wondering what if would feel like to kiss him. 

''Um, siblings? I got five. Five other siblings.'' This was going to be _hell_ if Ian continued to act like that. Mickey didn't seem to think to much of Ian's sudden weird attitude, though. 

''Damn. I got four, Mandy and three other stupid fucking brothers.'' He slightly smiled, maybe because the sentence made him think about some memories. Ian found himself wanting to know about them all.

The conversation ended there for now, because Mickey sat back on his bed, a lighter in a hand and a joint in the other. Ian did the same, letting his back be supported by the wall, getting comfortable.

At least, tonight he would know one thing about the guy. What he was like when he was high.

Mickey took the first drag, obviously, and the second one. It's only then that he passed it to him. Ian inhaled and held it for a bit, not for as long as he could hold it for but still, enough for his throat to burn a little. He didn't feel anything yet, but the anticipation made his fingers almost shaky. He let Mickey stole the joint from him without saying anything, and they passed it back and forth for a while after that. Ian felt content. 

''Where are your three brothers now?'' The words left Ian's mouth before he could remember Mickey wasn't usually so big on sharing and caring. He felt his heart drop, because Mickey would probably tell him to get the fuck out of the room now. He could feel the heat radiating from Mickey's body, he was so goddamn close, his fingers were twitching with the want to touch him, and god he didn't want to leave. _Please don't make me leave._

''Where are your siblings now?'' Mickey asked back, and Ian sighed with relief. ''If there's someone who's got a right to ask questions, it's me.'' 

Mickey was right. Ian couldn't stay a stranger forever. 

''They're back home, and they're safe. It's what matters.'' 

Ian was staring at a corner of the room, everything else around him out of focus. He was thinking too much, and he wasn't exactly in the best state to think too much. 

Mickey's laugh started small, and then it got bigger, and louder. Ian turned his head and smiled at him. It was one hell of a sight : Mickey, his mouth dropped open in a giant smile, his eyes staring at the ceiling. Ian couldn't really understand why Mickey was laughing, but it was still great to look at, so he didn't question it. He felt Mickey's hand push his shoulder a bit, and it was over before he could really take the time to appreciate his touch. 

'' _They're back home, and they're safe. It's what matters._ '' Mickey said in a dramatic tone in between laughs. ''Where the fuck do you think you are? In some soap opera? Jesus Christ. You're making it sound so fucking dramatic.'' 

At that point, Ian started laughing too, realizing how dumb he must have sounded. Yeah, his life was a big, bad soap opera. 

''It is! It's so fucking dramatic you have no idea!'' Ian said, and maybe he would have sounded more convincing if he wasn't still laughing. 

Mickey sighed, getting himself back together somehow, and stared into Ian's eyes with a small smile on his face. 

''You ran away cause you're a fag. It's dramatic but you don't need to be so fucking depressed about it all the time.'' He had a finger pointing at him, like he was reprimanding Ian. 

Ian's good mood dropped a bit. 

''It's more than that.'' Ian said, because it really was. ''Anyways, what the fuck would you know about it?'' 

Ian knew that Mickey knew about it. But he wanted him to say it. 

"'Cause I did.''

The words fell so easily, but the world seemed to stop. It was Mickey's smiled who dropped, then. 

''Fuck.'' He said instantly. ''Fuck. Fuck, no. I didn't... You didn't... Fuck.'' Mickey left Ian on the bed like it was on fire, and Ian expected him to leave the room. But he didn't. He walked, back and forth, in the small place, kicking some junk on the floor in the process. 

''Mickey!'' Ian said loud enough for him to snap out of it. ''It's fine! Calm the fuck down!'' 

And Mickey did, he stopped walking and he stared at Ian. The redhead couldn't feel the strength to get out of bed, though, so he only stared back. 

''It doesn't mean you can kiss me or whatever.'' Mickey said in what Ian guessed was supposed to be a threatening tone.

''I know, but you can bet I want to.''

If Ian hadn't been intensively staring at Mickey's face, he would have missed the hint of a smile he showed. Because soon enough, Mickey was flipping him off, saying ''Fuck off.'' and leaving the room. 

Why the fuck did he say that to Mickey? Ian would probably never know. 

But Mickey had told him. He'd opened up and he'd shared something. Ian couldn't help but smiled. 

He picked up the stuff Mickey left on the bedside table and rolled himself another joint. He could pay Mickey back for it, he just needed more, and right the fuck now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ian just has the biggest crush on Mickey, okay. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos always make me shit my pants in happiness, so please, feel free to leave some.


End file.
